Robin Williams and God's Kingdom

“Jesus said, `I tell you the truth. No person can see God's kingdom if he is not born again.'” John 3:3

William Barclay said, "There are two great days in a person's life - the day we are born and the day we discover why." I think Jesus was saying something similar when he told Nicodemus, one of the Sanhedrin, that no one could see God’s kingdom unless he is born again. I am certain Nicodemus was a bit shocked; after all, he was part of the Sanhedrin, the 71-member Jewish judiciary council.

Nicodemus hasn’t even asked Jesus a question yet. He simply acknowledges that no one could do the great works Jesus had done unless God was with him. I happen to believe Nicodemus was sincere. He came at night, either because he didn’t want to be seen, or because he wanted a private interview with Jesus. Either one suggest that this wasn’t an effort to trap Jesus, but rather an honest inquiry into what Jesus was all about.

I am writing this just one day after the talented actor and comedian Robin Williams took his own life. He had one of the quickest comic minds, spinning off characters in non-stop monologues. At the same time, under the guidance of expert direction, he was able to deliver intimate and stirring dramatic portrayals in many of his films. By all reports he was an extremely generous man. His neighbors in Tiburon, Ca report he acted more like a neighbor than a celebrity.

Colossal talent, a huge heart and comedic genius all blended to present to the world a man with inestimable who you hoped could be your best friend. Though he may not have measured up to evangelical standards for faith, he had his spiritual side. He famously quipped, "I don't understand the whole fundamentalist thing; you see, I'm an Episcopal; that's Catholic Light. Same religion, half the guilt!”

So, we find his death hard to accept on two fronts. We have trouble accepting that behind the laughter and smiles was someone dealing with intense pain and suffering. And, for some, suicide is the unpardonable sin. They draw the conclusion that if a person was truly close to God, they would never take their own life.

Early in my Christian life I remember discussions about whether or not someone who committed suicide could go to heaven. I cringe to think I ever thought I had the right to judge such a thing. Now, experiencing more of life, walking through my own valleys of darkness, and understanding the grace of God in Christ to a greater degree, the question of the eternal destination of someone who has completed a suicide is the last one on my mind.

Think about how much love is being poured out for this wonderful man. Read the interviews of his closest friends. Listen to the depth of compassion from the family mourning his loss. This was a man deeply beloved. So, how, we ask, could he do such a thing? How selfish, we say, forgetting our own moments of darkness when love seemed to have evaporated away like puddles on desert dunes.

It is easy to say that “If he had been ‘born again’, he would never have done such a thing.” Such thinking angers me. It might have only fired a theological discussion in my younger days. But now I have seen the pain in the hearts of people who are deeply loved by nearly everyone in their lives, but for one reason or another, they do not sense it.

If I am anything, I am a “born again” Christian. Not because I’m a fundamentalist, not because I’m an evangelical, not because I support right-wing causes. Even as a youngster and teen I longed for God. I was a church kid. Even better, I was a preacher’s kid! I knew the rules, I talked the talk, I memorized the books of the Bible and earned the God and Country Award as a Boy Scout. But, I was still glued, brain, soul and body, to this material world.

The short story is that, at 17, I told Jesus, “If You are real, You can have control of my life.” He took me seriously, and there has been no turning back since that December day in 1972. I learned a great deal about God, the Gospel and walking with Jesus. I also learned a lot about evangelical culture, and until a dozen years or so ago, I had difficulty telling the difference between the two.

I also discovered a great deal about myself. When a boy makes a life-decision at 17 he may not realize how that plays out for a 35 year-old man with a wife and three children. What I did discover is, I had a terrible time feeling loved. I was scared stiff of failing or not being accepted. Every sin or mistake buried me beneath a hole of my own self-loathing.

I figured the key was being a better follower of Jesus. So, when my anxieties wouldn’t let me sleep, I got up, went out to the living room, knelt at our couch and poured my heart out in prayer and weeping. Sometimes only for a few minutes, sometimes maybe an hour. But, when I was done (drum roll please) I felt worse that when I had begun. (You didn’t expect the sentence to end that way, did you?) It wasn’t until into my 40s that I understood that I was afflicted with clinical depression.

From my own experience, and from conversations with fellow-sufferers, I can say without a shadow of a doubt, the level of depression has nothing to do with the level of one’s faith, or with their spiritual maturity. It just doesn’t! We would do well to listen to medicine when it comes to these things. The darkness I regularly wrestle with is not the result of a poor prayer life. It is not about demons attacking me. It is not about some sort of generational spirit. You can’t lay hands on it and make it go away. (Though, yes, I believe God can and does heal. But that is an act of His grace, not a measure of the sufferer’s spirituality).

Robin Williams has made me think a lot about my friends who suffer. I know, though they “should” realize I love them, they need to be shown over and over. They need my hugs. They are not whiners because of it; they have a real disease. I would not withhold insulin from a diabetic just because he needs it every day.

From what I’ve read, Williams was going back into a 12-step program to do some addiction fine-tuning. I do not think we can even imagine the pressures of a life lived in front of the entire world. Once, when an interviewer commented on Williams’ Oscar-worthy performances, he replied, “The Academy Award lasts a few moments. Then, I walk out on the street and someone yells out, “Nanu-nanu.”

Me? I’m going to try to let people in, to be more transparent. I’ll be 60 next year, I have nothing left to prove. If anything, being “born again” means I have an entirely different family. It means I have a family that understands unearthly love that doesn’t measure worth based on performance or emotional fortitude. I’m pretty sure Robin Williams is experiencing the love of God right now in a way he always longed to on earth.